


Fifty Shades of Bandom

by a_kiss_inthe_rain



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Cock Slut, Concerts, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Priest Kink, Public Sex, Reader is a teacher, Student Gerard Way, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Emo Trinity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kiss_inthe_rain/pseuds/a_kiss_inthe_rain
Summary: This is a collection of absolutely smutty one shots featuring the emo trinity. Each chapter is a different scenario unless stated to be otherwise. Have fun, lovelies!





	1. Sins of The Flesh (Brendon Urie/Reader)

You couldn't bring yourself to pay attention as you sat next to your mother in the third row of pews. Your eyes kept zoning in on the priest that was preaching about James something-or-other, in his perfectly form fitting red suit. A soft sigh escaped your lips as he looked in your direction, his dark eyes twinkling as he smiled and continued to talk. You shifted in your seat, eyes locked onto those plush, soft pink lips that looked like they could drive you over the-  
"Now let us take Communion, in remembrance of what our Savior, Jesus Christ, did for us," Father Urie's voice, like velvet, draped itself over you.  
Slowly, the pews began to file into the main aisle, and people took their Communion; after sipping the wine, every person would bow at the alter and say the Lord's Prayer, while Father Urie smiled and gave the next person their cracker and wine.  
When it was your turn, your lips tilted up in a bashful smile as you followed the weekly routine of cracker, wine, prayer. While walking back to your spot in the third row, the same spot that you took every Sunday, you brushed against the delicious-looking priest's hand. A slight gasp left your mouth, causing the dark haired man to lift a brow curiously.  
The rest of the service went by at a crawling speed, with dark eyes keeping track of you as you watched the young priest. When the service was finally released, people began to rush out of the church; you were following your parents when the darkly handsome priest stopped them.  
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. (L/N), I was wondering if I'd be able to borrow your daughter for a bit. You see, I'm trying to come up with lessons for youth group, and I'd like a youth's advice on them," he asked with a warm smile. His voice was causing a tight coil in your belly that had you almost squirming.  
"Of course, so long as she's home by one for lunch," your mother answered with a smile.  
With that, Father Urie was leading you to his office. It was a small room, with a crucifix on the wall and shelves filled with Christian books and movies. His desk was covered in papers and sticky notes, with a Bible laying open.  
"(Y/N), go ahead and take a seat," he said, gesturing towards an overstuffed chair. The slender priest sat behind the desk, steepling his fingers as he did so.  
You did as told, fingers fiddling with the hem of your simple, white dress. Your (E/C) eyes took in the sight of Father Urie, a soft smirk on his handsome face. "What is it that you needed help with?" you asked, taking a second to add on, "Father."  
"Please, call me Brendon. I've been trying to come up with a lesson for youth group, about," Brendon chuckled, smoothing out the lapel of his crimson jacket. "A lesson about premarital sex, and abstinence. I was wondering if you could give advice on what you do, to, well, to refrain from the sins of the flesh."  
Your face flushed, fingers combing through your (H/C) hair nervously as you choked on air. "Oh! I-I suppose I just," you took a breath, trying to think, "I just pray?" In truth, you weren't a virgin. You hadn't been since your sophomore year of high school. It wasn't like you went around having sex with everyone, but you had slept with a few guys. And you didn't only have sex, you also took care of yourself.  
Brendon cocked an eyebrow curiously. "That sounded more like a question. You can be honest with me, I'm not going to judge you. Only God can do that," he assured you, reaching over and grasping one of your hands in his own, strong one. A strand of his styled hair fell into his face making him that much more irresistible.  
You smiled, blush only growing hotter. "Well, if I were to tell the truth, I'm not exactly abstinent," you muttered below your breath. Your (E/C) eyes met with chocolate ones, and your breath caught in your throat. Your pupils began to dilate as you felt warmth radiate through your abdomen.  
Brendon gave you a half-smile, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. "Truth be told, when I was your age, I wasn't either. I was, as teens today say, a player. I was not a model Christian, and I only fixed that later in my life. That's why I'm reaching out to youth today," he admitted. He looked down at his hand, noting that yours was still enveloped in it, and he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles. "I went after every girl I could, especially ones like you. Girls who were sweet and innocent, with a rebel streak in them. Girls with (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin that I just wanted to-" Brendon inhaled, like he was having to resist speaking further.  
You felt your heart hammering in your chest and your breathing come in short, shallow gasps. Your mouth seemed to be on autopilot as you spoke. "I-I know what you mean. I like guys that have that 'forbidden fruit' vibe to them, that make me squirm in my seat."  
"You mean like you were in church earlier?" Brendon's eyes were dark, a thin ring of brown around a black circle you thought you would fall into. His hand was suddenly firmer as he continued. "I noticed your behavior during the sermon today, how you weren't paying attention and your eyes were always seeming to be on me. And let's not forget when you brushed against me and almost gasped loud enough for everyone to hear."  
You felt your heart drop, and the impending lecture began to form in your mind. You knew that you were in trouble, especially when your priest stood and walked around the desk to stand beside you. You braced yourself, flinching when his hand gripped your shoulder. "I-I'm sorry," you squeaked out, not sure what to say. After all, what could you say when your priest figured out you were getting hot and bothered over him.  
What you weren't expecting was his lips to come crashing down on yours, or his other hand to nudge its way between your thighs to grip the muscle with a groan. He pulled away, as quick as he had dove in, breath fanning out over your face. "God, if anyone knew what I just did they would have me fired," he whispered, "Is this what you want?"  
You nodded, craning your neck to get another kiss. Your wish was granted, his lips, soft and hot and skillful, worked against yours like music. Your hands found their way to his chest, moaning when you felt just how muscled he was. A gasp escaped your lips when his hand found its way to your core, slipping beneath your skirt to rub at your clit.  
A groan that sounded like it was on the border of pain and pleasure left Brendon's throat as he rubbed. "Oh, God, it has been so long since I had an innocent girl look at me the way you do," he moaned.  
You leaned up, lips grazing against his ear. "I'm not as innocent as I look, Father," you whispered, delighted when he shivered. One of your hands worked down his chest, his abs (those hard, lean abs) and cupped his bulge, eliciting another moan from him. Your fingers massaged his hard on, causing him to grind down into your palm.  
Brendon lifted you up from the chair, sitting you on his desk delicately and grinding up against your heated core. You felt so wet, just from dry humping, you knew it wouldn't last long. "I can't do much here, but I want to," a pained moan left his lips, those cursed lips that had you biting yours every Sunday. "Ugh, I want to make sure th-that you know just what you're getting yourself into."  
Rather than nodding, or saying anything, you hooked your ankles together and brought him closer to you; you rubbed yourself against him and moaned softly, (E/C) eyes dark with want as you drew closer to your orgasm. You grabbed one of his hands, bringing it up to cup your breast, and panted when he tweaked a nipple tenderly. "Father Urie, I know exactly what I'm getting into, and I want more," you gasped out as he palmed your breast.  
Brendon was panting as he ground against your heat, nearing the edge of orgasm himself. It was when he felt your muscles spasm, and a warm wetness spread against his erection that he lost it. For the first time since he was a fourteen year-old watching porn that he found in his friend's closet, Brendon Urie came in his pants, with an explosion of white behind his eyes.  
You were gasping on his desk, his arms on either side of you, when your phone began to vibrate. You looked up, seeing your priest undone and his hair falling into his face, and felt another coil of warmth in your belly. Reluctantly you reached for your phone and saw a text from your mother warning you that you had ten minutes to get home. A laugh that was more like a breathless gasp left your lips.  
Brendon saw the message and chuckled. "I'll give you a ride home," he murmured as he kissed you again.


	2. Artistic Talents (Gerard Way/Reader)

You squared your shoulders and braced yourself as you walked into the art room for your first day of school. You had been hired on as a replacement for the previous art teacher, who had been caught selling drugs out of the back of his van. As you opened the door of the classroom, you noticed that many of the students were actually well behaved, contradictory to what the principal had told you. You had elected to wear a simple, black skirt that stopped just above the knees, and a gray button-up blouse for your first day.  
You silently donned your smock as you took your place at the front of the room. When you were finished you looked out at the crowd of students, noting that most of them had piercings and brightly colored hair; you were surprised, since most schools did not allow students to color their hair. "Hello, I am Miss (L/N)," you introduced yourself. "And don't worry, I'm not going to have you introduce yourselves, or give a 'fun fact about yourself'." That had always been your least favorite part of school when you were a student, just the thought of it made you shudder internally.  
One student raised her hand, a charcoal pencil poised between her fingers.  
"Yes, go ahead," you said with a half-smile.  
"I was wondering what all supplies we'll need for this class. Last year Mr. Moheney made us get our own paints, and I wanted to know if it would be the same this year." The girl fiddled with her pencil nervously as she waited for your answer.  
You chuckled half-heartedly, in disbelief that they had had to get their own supplies before. "Um, no. Everything is already supplied, other than smocks of course. Now, are there any other questions before we begin?" You looked around the room, barely noticing one student passing a note to another. You went down the aisle and snatched the piece of paper, looking between the two students.  
One had jet black hair swept in an edgy fashion, with black clothes and a tattoo on the side of his neck; he glared at you before looking down at the tabletop. The other student had bright red hair that stuck out at all angles, with mismatched clothes that almost made you want to laugh; his hazel eyes looked up at you almost fearfully as you took the paper from his hands.  
"No, ma'am, ple-"  
You silenced him with a hand, unfolding the paper to look at it.  
'Look at her ASS, so fuckin' hoooott!' The worlds glared up at you in neon green ink, almost causing you to turn the same shade of red as the kid's hair.  
You looked over at the two tables, noticing the green pen beside the redhead's arm. You put the note back down on the desk, turning away to go back to the front of the room. "As I was about to say, today we'll be learning about shading. Be it the shadow an object casts, the shadow on the object itself, or the lighting on it, shading is an important part of every art piece."  
The lesson went on with you giving examples of shading, and watching as each student attempted to draw shadows. When the bell finally rang at the end of the period, you called the redhead student to your desk.  
"What is your name?" you asked him in a neutral tone, eyes skimming over your roll call sheet.  
"G-Gerard Way," he answered quietly, quiet enough you couldn't hear him at first. He refused to meet your eyes, hands fidgeting with each other nervously. "Please, ma'am, don't give me detention on the first day. My mom would kill me!"  
You looked up at the pale youth, (E/C) eyes studying him. He seemed like a good kid, and like he had potential. You looked over at the work he had set on your desk, along with every other student's. The shadowing was perfect, but the lighting needed some work. "I'm not going to give you detention, Way," you finally said, much to his surprise.  
"Y-your not?" The look on his square face was of utter confusion. "Why?"  
You rolled your eyes, pushing a strand of (H/C) hair from your forehead. "Because, unlike most teachers, I understand that attraction is an uncontrollable, natural part of adolescence and adulthood. The part that I'm frustrated about is note-passing; I don't want class being disrupted. So long as you aren't pestering anyone else, I don't really care what you do," you confessed. You gestured to his drawing. "It's obvious you have artistic talents, and that they need brushed up. I would love to help you with that, but I can't force you to pay attention. The only thing I ask, is that you don't distract others. Okay?"  
Gerard was in complete disbelief at what you had just told him. "Y-yeah. Thanks, Miss (Last Initial (L/I)), I've never had a teacher be honest like that."  
You smiled and waved him off. "Yeah, yeah," you handed him a note, "Give this to your teacher so you don't get in trouble."

~~~~~

The weeks had gone by smoothly, with the classes excelling far quicker than you had thought they would. Your only problem was Gerard; he seemed to always be chatting with Frank (or as you called him, pain-in-the-ass), or passing notes, or doodling rather... obscene things. It was one day that you had had enough, and pulled Gerard to the side to speak with him while the class worked on their paintings.  
"Gerard, I know we talked about this, so what the hell?" you asked. Your arms were crossed over your chest, blue paint smudged on your left hand.  
The flame-haired youth shrugged. "What do you mean, Miss (L/I)? I've been doing good in class, haven't I?"  
You bit your lip, looking down at the awkwardly handsome young man before you. "Of course you have, but that doesn't give you the excuse to be talking and passing notes during the whole class. If you don't stop I'm going to have to give you detention, and I really don't want to have to do that."  
Gerard shrugged again, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. "Then don't."  
You felt your temper spike and you had to take a deep breath to keep from doing anything stupid. "This is your last warning. If I catch you doing either of those things again, you'll be having an hour of detention."  
You both walked back into the room, and everything went well for about ten minutes. That's when Gerard passed Frank another note, and you grabbed it up with a glare to the smirking youth.  
What you read made you almost drop the paper, your face managing to turn pale, pink, pale, then pink again in the span of a few seconds. In bright green ink that you had grown to know, the words 'I hope Miss (L/I) gives me detention, maybe I'll get a go with her' screamed up at you. In the corner Frank had doodled a little thumbs-up and 'Go get her'.  
You glared at Gerard, teeth grit as you held back from blushing furiously. "You'll be staying after class. I'll excuse you from all of your classes for the day." You turned on your heel, walking back up to your desk to lean against it and look over the rest of the class. "Okay, everyone, it looks like we have about five minutes left. Gather your stuff up, and set your paintings along the wall to dry."  
When the bell rang, Frank gave Gerard a 'sorry, man' look and left with the other students. The door closed, and you looked dead at Gerard. There was only one art class, since the school didn't have full-funding for more. You walked over and flicked the lock on the door, not saying one word until you were back at your desk, seated behind it.  
"What was that note for?" you asked, voice dangerously close to screaming. Your tone was almost venomous, as well as your narrowed eyes, (E/C) pools of anger.  
Gerard shrugged, like it was no big deal for him to be in trouble with a teacher for writing down that he wanted to fuck them. "You said attraction is natural," he answered nonchalantly.  
You took a deep breath, then a second. You even took time to sip from your thermos, and screw the cap on tightly. "Go clean the paintbrushes. The sink is at the back closet, along with the required soap. I want every brush cleaned, along with the palettes." You looked down at the pieces of art that you still had to grade, charcoal drawings that had been a 'test' for shading.  
After an hour and a half, Gerard was finished with cleaning the utensils. He sauntered up, careful not to trip, and leaned against your desk like it was no big deal.  
You raised a brow at him, (E/C) eyes locking with his almost-golden ones. "What do you think you're doing?"  
He shrugged, a gesture you were growing to hate. "What? I'm done with the cleaning, can't I relax?"  
You looked back down at the current drawing you were grading, and saw that it was Frank's. You chuckled at his choice of drawing, a cat sleeping on a pillow. When you felt something hot tickling the back of your neck, you whipped your head up to see that Gerard had crept around your desk and was standing beside you. "Mr. Way, go sit somewhere and work on your classwork. Your friend was kind enough to bring it by."  
Gerard inched closer to you, causing you to stand suddenly. The young man pinned you between the desk and himself, a smile on his porcelain face. "I can feel your heart hammering, Miss (L/I). Don't you think I see the way your pupils dilated when you read my notes, or how you'd get all flustered. I don't think this attraction is one-way," he said before attaching his lips to your collar bone.  
You held back a moan, the kid knew what he was doing with his mouth. You braced yourself against your desk, legs wobbling as you worked to stay standing in your heels. The first moan left your mouth when one of his hands crept up under your skirt and cupped your ass.  
Gerard was breathing heavy, his eyes thin gold rings around blown pupils. "Miss (L/I), I want you so fuckin' bad that I can't stand it. I wanna give you so much, and I know that I could. Let me try, please," he whispered against your throat before leaving a nip there. He soothed the soreness with his tongue, before sinking to his knees and lifting your skirt up. His mouth latched onto your clothed mound, a moan escaping him just from your scent.  
You spread your legs, laying back onto your desk so that you wouldn't collapse. You felt him slide off your panties, but his lips covering your clit still surprised you.  
Gerard licked up and down your slit, tongue fucking into your heat a couple times before pulling back out. He pulled away, lips already shiny and bruised. "Fuck, Miss (L/N), you taste so damn good," he moaned before latching back onto you. His finger worked itself inside of you, pumping in and out fast enough you thought you would scream. He added in a second, pumping a few times before scissoring, in a pattern.  
You were gasping for air, your juices being gathered in Gerard's, your student's, mouth. Your fingers were curled in his bright red hair, tugging almost roughly at the locks as you begged for more.  
Gerard smiled and pulled off, beginning to stand up and pull his cock out of his jeans.  
You sat up, getting off of the desk and onto the floor as you opened your mouth for him. You sucked on the head of his leaking cock, teasing the hole with your tongue, before sliding down the shaft. You took about half of him into your mouth and pulled back, repeating the motion but going further each time. Finally, your mouth was filled, and you gripped what was left with your hand.  
Gerard was trembling, leaning against the desk for support. Sweat rolled down his face, cheeks flushed as he gasped for air. He was absolutely beautiful in his disheveled, undone state.  
You could feel his cock throbbing against your tongue as you sucked hard, causing him to cum in your mouth. You swallowed, coaxing each drop out of him, before you pulled off with a bashful smile.  
"W-whoa, Miss (L/I), you-you're really good," he stuttered out, coming down from his euphoria. "Really good."  
You smiled and tucked the young man's cock back into his pants, rearranging your own outfit. You wiped sweat from your face and checked yourself in your compact. "Shit, I look like-"  
"Like you just had sex," Gerard gasped out. He smirked. "I wanna see that more often."  
You nudged him playfully. "Who says this is happening again?" You go about making yourself look presentable, noting that there was only about fifteen minutes left of the school day.  
"You know you want this mouth again," he whispered in your ear, "and I have plenty more to offer."  
Kid had a point.


	3. Midnight Strolls (Ryan Ross/Reader)

Ryan was perfectly fine on his own, leaving the band had been good for him. Or at least that's what he told himself. He was fine writing his own music, free to do as he pleased with lyrics and the actual melody. He was fine with his dog, Dorothy. He was fine with his place in Echo Park. What he wasn't fine with were the nights when he couldn't sleep, couldn't relax, and couldn't focus enough to write his lyrics.  
That's when he started going on midnight strolls, taking Dorothy along with him. He loved to see the nightlife of LA, with all the pretty lights and the different people. He loved to walk around in the warm, nighttime air and just think while he did. Every once in a while, someone would stop him and say how they were a fan, ask why he quit Panic!, ask how he'd been; usually the encounter lasted less than five minutes, and was forgotten by the time he got home.  
Then there was you. A girl that he had never seen around Echo Park before, and definitely looked like you did not belong there. You wore a pair of shredded skinny jeans and wedge boots, with a tank top that sported some band logo or another. Your (H/C) hair looked windblown as you stood outside one of the clubs that Ryan walked past, (E/C) eyes locking onto Dorothy as he did.  
"Oh my GOD! What an adorable little doggy! What's her name?" you asked as you squatted down in front of her, making kissy faces at the excited dog.  
"Her name's Dorothy," Ryan answered with a smile. He ran the hand that wasn't holding her leash through his shaggy brown hair, soft eyes twinkling.  
"Can I pet her?" You were almost bouncing, begging to pet the adorable little pup.  
"Of course. I'm Ryan, by the way, Ryan Ross," he introduced himself. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket, standing awkwardly as you cooed over Dorothy, scratching her ears.  
Suddenly you froze, the name striking a chord in you. You looked up, taking in the man's appearance for the first time. His dark scruff made him look much more... roguish, since you had last seen a picture of him. He looked more muscled, and masculine too; no more scarves and feminine hairstyles. "Uuuh, Ryan Ross? Like... lyricist Ryan Ross? Northern Downpour Ryan Ross?" You bit your lip, realizing how cringey and creepy that sounded.  
The smiling man nodded, offering his hand to help you stand. "Yep, that Ryan Ross."  
You smiled back at him, noting how strong his hand actually was. A blush crept over your cheeks as you looked into his brown eyes, eyes that seemed to enchant your own (E/C) ones. "I'm (Y/N) by the way, (Y/N) (L/N)."  
He shook your hand, since you still hadn't let go of his. "It's nice to meet you, (Y/N). I don't believe I've seen you around here before," he made polite talk.  
Your smile grew brighter, causing Ryan's heart to squeeze. "Actually, I'm out here on vacation! I wanted to celebrate my birthday, and what better way to do that than going clubbing in Los Angeles!" You realized that you still hadn't let his hand drop, pulling away with a deep blush and a muttered apology.  
Ryan looked over to the club entrance, noticing that it was almost your turn to go in. "Well, happy birthday! I'd love to keep talking, but I'll let you get on with your plans," he said, hoping that you would object, ask him to come along, let him take you somewhere, anything to talk with you more.  
"Oh, okay," you replied, smile dimming. "If you'd like, you could come along, but I don't want to keep you busy-"  
"You wouldn't be keeping my busy!" Ryan sprung at the opportunity, hearth fluttering when you smiled again. "I'd have to drop Dorothy off at the house, but I could meet back with you here."  
You looked down at the dog, who was currently rubbing on your boot lovingly. "I could go with you, I definitely enjoy her company!" You straightened up, smiling as the three of you walked back down the road, Dorothy happily bouncing between you and Ryan.  
When you reached the guitarist's home, you were in awe; it was absolutely stunning. There was an enormous in-ground pool, the home itself was like a penthouse. Windows lined the walls, making it look chic and modern, when you got inside you were stunned at just how beautiful the home was. The furniture was all white, or cream colors, the kitchen had all stainless steel appliances, and the bedroom was up in a loft where you could see the king size bed flowing with comfy-looking blankets and pillows.  
"Wow, you have an awesome place," you said as you looked around.  
Ryan was leading Dorothy to her kennel when he saw how you gawked. "Thanks, if you want you can grab something from the fridge. I think I have some beer in there," he offered. The droopy-eared dog began to whine when he put her in the kennel, eyes growing sad. "Don't worry, girl, I'll be home in a few hours."  
Your heart dropped at the pitiful noises the dog made. "If you'd like we could stay here. It'd be just as fun hanging out with a rockstar as it would be going clubbing." You looked at how Dorothy all but pleaded with her eyes for you two to stay.  
Ryan perked up, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Oh, okay! Well, what would you like to do? I have some movies, music, we could talk, whatever," the young man began to ramble. "I mean it is your birthday after all."  
You smiled and grabbed a couple beers from his fridge, handing one off to him. "Let's see where the night takes us," you said as you took a swig of the drink.  
About an hour had passed, along with more than a couple beers, and you two were chatting on the couch like old friends. It surprised you that you were having so much fun just talking with someone instead of getting plastered.  
"Y'know, when I was in high school," you began, a blush on your cheeks, "I used to have the biggest crush on you. Like, I had posters and everything. Was determined I would marry you one day." You laughed to yourself, (E/C) eyes slipping closed as you did.  
Ryan smirked over at you, a blush on his own cheeks. "Oh, really? See, when I was in high school I avoided girls like the plague. Well, I avoided everyone, but girls especially. Was terrified of making a fool of myself," he informed you with a nod. "But if a girl like you would have been around, I would have been a lot more apt to come out of my shell."  
Your laughter died, eyes wide open as they locked with dazzling brown ones. "R-really?" your voice was a whisper. You almost jerked away when Ryan reached out, fingers brushing against your (H/C) hair gingerly.  
"Hell yeah," he whispered, leaning closer. Before you could register it, his lips were on yours. They were surprisingly rough, but soft at the same time; the kiss sent electricity through your body, followed by fire. His scruff tickled your skin in a way that made you want even more. He smiled into the kiss when you returned it with vigor, lips battling for dominance as his hands cupped your cheeks tenderly. When he finally pulled away, Ryan was gasping. "This something you want? For real, not alcohol talking, or wanting to get with a celebrity?"  
You nodded, hands trembling as you traced his soft muscles through his shirt. "I want this so bad, Ryan. Want you to do whatever you want to me," you moaned out. Your hands came to stop at the waistband of his jeans. "What about you? You wan-"  
"Of course I do," he rushed out before latching his lips onto yours again. His own hands were wandering over every plane of your body; thighs, back, stomach, sides, arms, everywhere. Finally he pulled your shirt over your head to reveal beautifully (S/C) skin, and attacked the new flesh with his mouth. He left marks all over your stomach, soothing them with his tongue after.  
You were a moaning mess already, hands almost unable to rip Ryan's shirt up over his head. You began to fumble with the fly of his jeans, gasping when he pushed your hands away and began work the fly of your own jeans with his mouth. You shivered when his teeth latched onto your zipper and tugged it down, moving to undo the button.  
"That's not the only thing this mouth does, sweety," he rasped lowly, winking at you when you blushed. He slipped out of his own jeans, tugging them and his boxers down in a swift motion. His cock left you in awe, it was pale and long, not overtly thick, and the head was the same pink as his lips. He palmed at himself, biting his lip. "The sight of you in nothing but your bra and panties, you should see it. So hot."  
You crawled the small distance across the sofa to him, licking a stripe up his cock. Your (E/C) eyes were dark, hungry, as you took him into your mouth.  
Ryan was moaning, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He finally managed to open them, reaching behind you with one of his hands to pet your ass before leaving a swift smack on the (S/C) skin. He smirked at you when you made a choked noise, and inserted a finger into your heat, pushing your panties to the side. He pumped the finger into you, moaning about how ready you were for him, before adding in a second. He stretched you out, making sure one more time that you wanted this, wanted him.  
You nodded, wriggling your ass in the air. You were panting when Ryan positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating onto you. An absolutely debauched moan left your lips when he began to slide into you; your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open in a delicious way.  
Ryan was holding back, waiting to make sure you were adjusted. Then he began to grind his hips, cock grazing that sweet spot over and over. He couldn't control himself after that, hands grasping your hips hard enough to make you yelp as he drove himself into you again and again. He felt his orgasm drawing near, and slowed to almost a torturous pace. One of his hands worked down to massage your clit, moaning when you humped into his hand.  
"Good girl," his whispered words made you buck your hips. "Oh, God, gonna make me cum, baby doll."  
The pet name sent shivers down your spin and to your core, shoving you over the edge into a white-knuckled, spine-arching orgasm. The vision behind your eyes went white, ears ringing for a few seconds until you slowly came down. You hadn't even realized that Ryan ground into you sloppily, hips jerking spasmodically as he came undone.   
You two collapsed onto the sofa, Ryan tying off the condom and tossing it into the waste bin. Your breathing was synchronized, chests rising and falling in tandem. When a few minutes had passed, you looked over at the dark haired man to see that he was smiling softly at you.  
"Happy birthday," he whispered, voice raspy.


	4. Got Milk (Frank Iero/Reader)

You were happy to finally have made some friends at school, even if it was with the 'emo group'. So, you decided to make a pie for the group; nothing big, just a simple chocolate mousse pie. Something Gerard, Mikey, Frank, and Ray would like. You took it over to Frank's house, walking down into the basement with it and a smile on your face.  
Needless to say the boys loved it, each of them scarfing down the pie with a muffled thanks. Frank was through about two and a half slices when he looked up, wide eyed.  
"Um, (Y/N), does this have milk in it?" he asked, slowly. His soft brown eyes began to water, lips pursing.  
You looked at Frank, not understanding for a second. "Yeah, why?"  
Without any explanation, the dark haired man sprinted from the room and into the bathroom.  
You looked around the room, (E/C) eyes wide with horror before following your friend into the bathroom. You opened the door to see him doubled over the toilet, hands gripping onto the rim shakily. "F-Frank? Are you gonna be okay?"  
Frank looked up at you, eyes watery and cheeks red. "Tell the guys to go home, practice isn't happening tonight." He doubled back over the toilet bowl, heaving as you turned away.  
You went back to the group, tears starting to fill your eyes. "Hey, guys, Frank said that practice isn't happening, and to just go home. I-I'm sorry, I didn't-"  
"Hey, it's alright, you didn't know," Gee assured you with a hug. "Do you need someone to drive you home?"  
"No, I'm gonna wait with Frank, make sure he's okay," you answered with a half-smile. You went back to the bathroom to see Frank leaning against the wall.  
His skin was pale, with a sick greenish tinge. His bloodshot eyes looked up at you as you squatted down beside him. "Aren't you gonna go home?" he asked. The guitarist wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
You shook your head, reaching out with a hand to squeeze his shoulder gently. "I wanna stay with you and make sure that you're okay," you answered with a smile. You sat down, crossing your legs, and rubbed the young man's heated cheek.  
"I should've asked before I ate any," he mumbled, "There's no way you could've known I was lactose intolerant." He pressed his face into the palm of your hand, relishing in the coolness of your skin. He pulled you closer to him with his tired arms, clinging to you like a sick kid with their teddy bear.  
You felt his forehead, noticing how hot it felt. "You sure you'll be okay? You're kinda hot," you asked.  
Frank smirked up at you, brown eyes opening just the slightest bit to look up at your worried expression. "Well thanks for noticing, you're not half-bad yourself," he answered sarcastically. He pulled you in closer and nuzzled against your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume as he inhaled deeply. "I'll be fine, just need to rest and drink some water."  
You nodded, standing and offering a hand. "Come on, then, let's get you to bed." You helped the shaggy haired man up, surprised that you could support him as you walked up the stairs to his bedroom. When you reached his bed you both collapsed, Frank slinging his arm over you. "C'mon, Iero, I need to get you some water," you reminded him.  
He shook his head, pulling you closer to him. "No, I wanna cuddle," he answered stubbornly, voice much like a child's. He exhaled shakily, arm wrapping even tighter around your waist as he rested his head on your chest. Your heartbeat lulled him into a calm trance, his breathing evening out as he relaxed. Frank turned his face so that it was pressed against what revealed skin there was, leaving little kisses there until you pushed him away.  
"What are you doing?" you asked, voice scared yet aroused. You did like Frank, hell you thought he was hot, but you didn't want to ruin a friendship by doing something stupid. Your hands found their way to his shoulders as you shoved him to the side. "I'm getting you some water, it's obvious you're delirious." You ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of cold water, rushing back to Frank's room to see that he had wormed his way out of the majority of his clothes.  
Frank smiled up at you drowsily, taking the water and gulping it down thirstily. "Damn, you'd make a good wife," he said with a chuckle. He set the glass on his nightstand, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. Suddenly he sat up, head cocked to the side. "How are you gonna get home? You sure as fuck ain't walking this late."  
You bit your lip, you hadn't exactly thought about that. "Oh, well, I guess I could call my dad-"  
Frank shook his head. "You know you're dad is an ass about hanging out with us. Wouldn't wanna give him a reason to not like it. You can stay here, share my bed with me," the tattooed man said matter-of-factly. When you hesitated he frowned. "I promise I won't do anything. At least, anything you won't like." This was followed by a wink and you rolling your eyes.  
"Fine, I'll stay here," you answered, climbing into the bed beside your friend. You had to admit, laying next to him when he was in nothing but his boxers was something you'd definitely thought about. You found yourself curling into his side as you dozed off, his arms wrapped around you.

~~~~~

You woke up sometime around two A.M., the lingering remnants of a wet dream following you to reality. You could have sworn that you could feel Frank fisting your (H/C) hair as he fucked your face, but looking beside you confirmed it was only a dream. You breathed shakily, thighs rubbing together to grant yourself some friction; but, it wasn't enough. Warily, you reached down to rub yourself, biting back moans as your friend slept beside you.  
Frank rolled over, his hand finding yours. He slowly began to wake as he noticed you moving, brown eyes bleary at first as he looked at you.  
You froze, hoping that he would fall back asleep and think that this was some odd dream. But he looked from your wide, (E/C) eyes, to your hand between your legs, to his hand on yours, and smiled drowsily. "Looks like you got yourself in a predicament now, doesn't it," he whispered, breath fanning across your face only making you hotter.  
You groaned, eyes begging Frank to do something, anything to you. You began to move your hand again, only to have him stop it.  
"Tell me what started this, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. His hand was grasping yours tightly, thumb brushing against your inner thigh lightly.  
You took a deep breath. "I-I had a dream, and you were," you gulped, fire burning beneath your skin as you spoke. "You were fucking into my mouth, and you were using my hair to control me. And you were-were telling me how good I was and how pretty I am." You felt his thumb edge closer to your heat and you spread your legs for him, letting his thumb make lazy strokes over your clothed mound.  
Frank chuckled deeply, mouthing at your jawline. "Maybe we can do something about that, huh? Make your little dream come true?" His moan made your spine arch and your eyelids flutter. He got up in the bed, kneeling above you; he positioned himself so that his knees were on either side of your head as he pulled his already leaking cock from his boxers. "You ready for this, sweetheart?"  
You nodded, mouth open and greedy. You moaned loudly when you got the first taste of him, your tongue swiping off the precum that coated the head of his cock. You worked on your own until Frank's hand fisted in your hair, causing you to gasp in a mix of pain and pleasure.  
"Tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?" he rasped, smiling when you nodded. "Good girl." He pushed his cock into your open mouth, a groan escaping his lips when you began to suck and lick. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, but became deeper and faster the more you sucked. A line of curses were falling out of Frank's mouth as he fucked into yours, hips starting to stutter as you moaned around him.  
You had one hand down your pants, fingers rubbing your clit as you took as much of Frank as you could. His taste had your mouth watering, and his smell was deep, musky, with a tint of Axe.  
Frank pulled out of your mouth, chuckling when you whimpered. "It's okay, baby, I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours, okay? Then you're gonna clean yourself up, okay?" Your eager nods had him smiling down at you softly. "Such a good girl, baby. Say my name, please, honey?"  
You batted your eyelashes, trying to catch your breath. "F-Frank! Oh, fuck, Frank!"  
Just your voice had him painting stripes across your face, in sporadic spurts. He chuckled breathlessly, gathering some of his cum onto his finger and letting you lick it off greedily. When you cleaned it all up, he crawled down your body to where heat radiated from your core.  
"I'm gonna return that favor, baby," he moaned against your clothed core. "I'm gonna make you feel really good." With that, he slid your pants down, gasping when he saw how deliciously wet you were. His mouth was instantly attached to you, tongue swiping across your slit and gathering up all your slick. He moaned, sending vibrations through you that caused your hips to buck. He left small kisses along the lips, and inner thighs, before delving his tongue as far into you as he could.  
You were sure that everyone in the house heard your moans, as you gasped out Frank's name repeatedly. Your hands were fisted in the sheets, back arched as you begged for more.  
Frank pressed his mouth against your heat, sucking on your clit and sending you over the edge. He lapped up your cum, moaning at the taste of you as he sat back on his legs. "Wow, babe, that was amazing. Fuck, I can only imagine was sex would feel like," he babbled, smiling over at you with glassy eyes.  
You blushed, hiding your face in the pillow, (H/C) hair falling around you. You pressed into Frank's touch when he brushed your hair aside, turning your face so you could see him.  
"Whatever comes of this, I just don't want you to regret it. This was amazing, and you shouldn't be ashamed," he assured you.  
You smiled and took his lips in a kiss, moaning when you could taste yourself on him.  
He pulled away with a smile, looking deep into your eyes. "Good girl."


	5. Blind Date (Patrick Stump/Reader)

You groaned, glaring at your roommate as she smiled back at you. "Are you serious right now, Ashley? You know I'm more focused on my studies than going on a date with some dude you happen to think will be my prince charming," you fumed. It was your junior year of college, and you really were buckling down on your grades; you were planning on becoming a therapist, and couldn't afford to bail on your studies.  
Ashley rolled her eyes at you, flopping down onto her bed. "C'mon, (Y/N)! You never go do anything fun, and I haven't seen you so much as look at a guy the three years I've known you! It's time to dust off your va-"  
You threw a pillow over at your friend, causing her to yelp. "Okay, okay! When did you say the dinner was, again?"k  
The blonde blushed and bit her lip, giggling in a way that made your stomach turn. "Um, in two hours?"  
You stood from your own bed abruptly, hands flying to your (H/C) hair to try to comb it out. "Oh my God! Seriously?!" You were dashing around the room, looking for a nice outfit to wear, along with everything to get your hair and makeup ready. You grabbed up your brush, along with a midnight blue dress that you kept hidden in the back of your wardrobe, running into the bathroom to get ready.

~~~~~

A little over an hour later you were pacing around your dorm room nervously, nibbling on your red painted lip. You had brushed your (H/C) hair back, deciding to let it fall behind you naturally. Your dark blue dress stopped just above your knees, the skirt flowing around your thighs as you paced; the long sleeves were long enough that they almost hid your hands, fingers picking at each other anxiously as you waited. You had decided on a cute pair of black flats, that barely made noise when you walked.  
Your roommate finally came back into the dorm, slamming the door behind her with a grin. "Okay, he's ready too. I'm letting you guys use my car tonight, so I don't wanna find any stains tomorrow," she said with a wink.  
You rolled your (E/C) eyes, voluminous lashes outlining them. "Ash, I guarantee that nothing will happen. Only reason I'm even doing this is because you made me promise to give this- what's his name, Patrick?- a chance." You grabbed your purse, checking yet again to make sure everything you could possibly need was inside; dorm key, cell, tampons, change, billfold, pepper spray, tissues, even a pocket knife in case things went bad. You took a deep breath, readying yourself to open the door and see the mystery man on the other side.  
The man outside was definitely not what you expected, the complete opposite actually. He had short blond hair that looked soft and feathery, blue eyes that made your heart stop for a second, and pale skin that almost reflected the fluorescent lighting. He wore a pair of black slacks and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Thick framed glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, completing the dorky look of him. His smile was what reeled you in completely. A smile that was completely genuine, with teeth and the tip of his tongue poking out.  
"Hi, I'm Patrick," he introduced himself nervously, offering a hand.  
You smiled back at him, still breathless as you answered. "I-I'm (Y/N)." You took his hand, surprised when he lifted it to his lips and kissed it delicately, soft lips barely brushing the (S/C) skin.  
He took your arm in his, walking down the hallway until you reached the elevator. He pressed the button for the first floor, letting you into the lift first. "Ashley had told me that you were pretty, I didn't realize she was making an understatement," he said, blush creeping into his porcelain skin.  
You bit your lip, giggling as you ducked your head. "Th-thanks," you answered, (E/C) eyes meeting ones that reminded you of the ocean, a mix of blue and gray. "She didn't tell me that you were so polite, or cute."  
He smiled back at you, the rest of the way to Ashley's car silent. He opened the car door for you, closing it gently before dashing around the little Nissan to get in himself. After making sure you were both buckled in, he started the engine and pulled out of the student parking lot.  
"So, you know where we're going?" has asked you, eyes flicking over to see you fiddling with your purse.  
"Hmm? Oh, no, actually. Ash told me that it was a surprise," you answered. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest with anxiety; you weren't really used to dating, or hanging out with people even, especially with a guy this stunning.  
Patrick could sense your nervousness and reached over with a hand, settling it on your knee. "(Y/N), relax. I know that going out on a date with a complete stranger is pretty scary, but think if it more as a... I don't know, like hanging out with an old friend. Let's get to know each other a little bit before we get there. I'm Patrick Stump, from Wilmette, Illinois. I like to sing and play music. Now, what about you?"  
You took a breath, thinking of what to tell him exactly. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), from St. Louis, Missouri, and I like... I like psychology, and helping people." You smiled, realizing that it was actually kind of easy to talk to Patrick. "I like helping people who have mental illnesses, especially cause I have anxiety."  
Patrick squeezed your knee gently, smiling at you proudly. "Good, good." He put the car in park, gesturing at the cafe before you. "We're here!" He got out of the car, dashing around to let you out. He noticed the brisk air, cocking his head.  
"Hey, um, if you're cold I have a jacket in the back," he offered with a lopsided grin that made your breath leave you again.  
"I'd like that, yeah," was all you could say as he handed you the suit jacket. You pulled it on, giggling at how short the sleeves were.  
The two of you walked into the cafe, instantly inhaling the scent of pastries and coffee. You found a small table near a corner, sitting down and waiting for a waitress to come over. The menu had a few meal options, but it was mainly dessert options. Finally, when a little barrista walked over with her pad ready, you two ordered. You got a grilled panini, and Patrick got some soup.  
You guys chatted for a while, almost like you had known each other forever. You found out he was in a band, and played a few instruments. He found out that you were going to become a therapist, and had an affection towards animals. You both liked city life, and speaking out about important events. After a while the conversation ran dry.  
An idea came to you, causing your lips to turn up in a mischievous smile. "When we get out of here we could play truth or dare," you offered. Your (E/C) eyes were filled with a light that made Patrick's heart squeeze, and he agreed breathlessly.  
You both finished your meal in silence, smiling over at each other on occasion. Patrick paid and you two went out to the vehicle.  
"Okay, so who goes first?" you asked as you snuggled into Patrick's warm jacket.  
"I will. Truth or dare?" he asked with that lopsided smile that almost punched the air out of you.  
"Hmm, I'll take truth."  
"Do you like me?" Patrick's blue eyes were honest and open as he looked into your (E/C) ones.  
"Of course I do," you answered with your own smile. "Truth or dare?"  
"I'll go with dare."  
You thought for a second, finger tapping your chin. "Okay, I dare you to... do something I won't expect?" Truth be told, you really did suck at truth or dare, always had. Mainly at coming up with good dares.  
Patrick smiled and thought for a second, then did exactly what you had asked. He reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his white undershirt. He chuckled at your expression (your eyes were wide, mouth agape). "Truth or dare?"  
You bit your lip, contemplating. You didn't want to look like a chicken, but you definitely did not want to end up in a situation that you couldn't turn back from. "I think I'll go with truth again."  
"What is the furthest you've ever gone with someone?"  
Your face was completely flushed as you gasped. "Oh! Well, I- uh, to be honest I've only ever really made out with someone. You know, just kissing and groping." You ducked your head, sure that your cheeks were flaming. "Truth or dare?"  
"Truth." Patrick licked his lips, in awe at how absolutely gorgeous you were, from your (H/C) hair to your soft eyes, to your smooth skin.  
"How far have you gone with someone?"  
"Well, I got a blowjob from a girl once, but I haven't really done much to anyone," he answered, looking out the windshield at the dark sky. He looked back over at you, surprised to see that you seemed flustered. "You okay?"  
You looked up at him, breathing a little hurried. "Yeah, just trying to think up my next question."  
He smiled at you, pulling out of the little parking lot and onto the road. He drove in silence for a while, until he saw a rest stop; Patrick pulled into the roadside area, looking out to see the thousands upon thousands of stars. "I figured we could do some stargazing," he explained when he saw your confusion. "Now, back to the game. I believe it's my turn. Truth or dare?"  
You took a deep breath, readying yourself. "Dare."  
He raised an eyebrow in surprise, then smiled at you again. "Okay, I dare you to kiss me."  
You blushed, leaning across the console and kissing Patrick gently. You almost moaned at how absolutely soft, and warm, and expert his lips were. You found one of your hands resting on his chest, the other supporting your weight. When you finally pulled away, the sight of Patrick before you was almost too much.  
The blond man's eyes were shut, his lips parted, slick and bruised from kissing. His cheeks held a slight blush that made him look like a doll, chest rising and falling quickly. When his eyes finally did open he took a moment to calm himself. "I-I think I'll go with dare," he stuttered out.  
You grinned down at him, feeling a wild streak in you that you never had before. "I dare you to do whatever you want to me," you whispered against his lips.  
Patrick lurched forward, his hands roaming all over you as he kissed you heatedly. Eventually, those hands, strong and warm, found their way under your dress; his fingers brushed against your ass, eliciting a moan from you. He grinned into the kiss, adjusting so that you could climb into his lap in the small car. He moved one of his hands, rubbing against your entrance, surprised that you hadn't worn any panties.  
You were moaning, rutting against Patrick's hand as you kissed down his jaw and neck. You couldn't believe how talented his fingers were, how they slowly worked inside of you, opening you. You pulled away, breathless, as you looked into eyes that were nothing more than a thin ring of ocean blue. "Do," you moaned, "do you have a-a c-"  
He reached into his pocket, pulling the foil package out with a nod. "Is this something you want?" he asked as you lifted off of him.  
You nodded quickly, gasping as he pulled his cock out. You wanted to ride it, feel it filling you up.  
Patrick rolled the condom on, gently grabbing your hips to steady you over him. He kissed you again, once more using his fingers to stretch you. He chuckled when you whined at the loss when he pulled them out, replacing them soon after with his throbbing member. He slowly lowered you down, a low moan leaving him when you were fully seated in his lap. He couldn't believe how tight you were, or how absolutely hot you looked right now with your messed up hair and blown eyes.  
"Damn, honey, you almost look better than you feel," he gasped out as you moved.  
You felt yourself flush, the blush dusting your chest too this time. You began to lift yourself, moaning at how good it felt to be filled. You rotated your hips, gasping when his cock grazed that sweet spot; your head fell back, and Patrick attacked your exposed throat with kisses and nibbles. Your hips were moving quicker, in more sporadic movements as you felt an orgasm approaching.  
Patrick's hands were gripping your waist, fingers massaging the flesh there as his own hips were moving. He could feel your walls tightening around him before your release came, and he rolled his hips just right to draw another delicious moan from you. He chuckled deeply when he felt your second orgasm hit, and you fell back enough to hit the car horn.  
Your muscles felt like rubber as Patrick did things to you that you hadn't ever thought of before. You could feel it when his movements became sloppy, his breath coming in short pants as you moaned atop him.  
Patrick came harder than he had his entire life when you looked into his eyes, and he saw how utterly debauched you were, how undone you were. All because of him. He came in spurts, causing yet another moan from you. When he finally slipped out, the blond man could barely keep his eyes open.  
"Oh, fuck, that was," he was gasping for air, barely able to talk, "That was amazing. W-what do you think?"  
You were curled up against Patrick, head nuzzled against his neck. "That was better than I could have imagined," you answered sleepily. You smiled when he kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back.  
"When my mind clears up, I'll drive you home," he said, looking down at your sleepy face.  
You tilted your head up, expression sad. "Who says I wanna go home?"  
His eyes widened, a smile spreading across his face. He kissed your lips again, sighing at how wonderful your kisses were. "My place it is, then."


	6. Secret Life (Mikey Way/Reader)

You had known Mikey for a while now, and you wanted to get closer to him. Not necessarily in the get-in-your-pants way, or the hold-my-hand-and-call-me-bae way. Yeah, you really liked Mikey, but you were fine with being friends. The only problem was that you didn't know much about him, and you wanted to fix that. So, that's how you found yourself following the younger Way through downtown San Diego, hoping that he wouldn't see you. You watched his blond head bob and weave through the crowded sidewalks.  
It was after turning a corner in front of San Diego Comic Con that you lost him. You cursed yourself, scanning the crowds for his blond hair, pale face, any sign of him. How could you have lost someone that was that size? You kept walking, stopping to check out one guy in a Captain America costume that, frankly, put his ass on display very nicely.  
The guy turned and you froze in your steps, both you and the Captain America's eyes widening. Mikey Way was cosplaying as a comic book character.  
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you bounced up to Mikey, waving excitedly. Your (H/C) was whipping around you as you looked up at your friend, grin spread across your face. "Mikey! Whatcha up to?!" You reached over and hugged the scrawny man- who currently wore a bright blue leotard.  
Mikey returned the hug nervously, looking down at you with wide honey-colored eyes. "Hey, (Y/N), w-what're you doing here?" he asked breathlessly. He let go of you, looking around to check if the rest of the gang was around. His pale cheeks were dusted a brilliant shade of pink as he looked back down at you.  
You shrugged your shoulders, taking a step back to look him over once again. You could definitely get used to seeing him in such a flattering getup; your eyes scoured over his lithe, muscled frame.  
Mikey noticed your staring, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and ducking his head. "W-what? What are you staring at?" he mumbled.  
Your (E/C) eyes snapped up, embarrassment obvious in them as you stuttered. "I-I, I was-um-was just checking out the costume?" you tried for an excuse, failing miserably. You kicked the ground with your boot, face flaming as you waited for an answer.  
Mikey's eyes narrowed as he studied your demeanor. He almost couldn't help smiling at how you were blushing and stammering, almost like you were nervou- Then it hit him, and his smile was replaced by realization. "Oh! O-oh, you like me? You," he leaned in, whispering in your ear now, "You like the way I look in this?" He gestured to himself in the blue skin suit, hips gyrating.  
You looked up at the blond with wide eyes, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you. You ran your fingers through your hair, causing the (H/C) locks to fall in a curtain around your face. Knowing you were hidden from his view, you nodded with a small 'mhm'.  
Mikey reached out, tilting your face with one hand while he swept your hair back with another. His face was soft, eyes causing your breath to catch with how absolutely adoring they were. He leaned forward, lips a hair's width from yours. "Maybe I should skip the Con, and take you back to my place," he whispered, breath fanning over you and causing you to shiver.  
You nodded enthusiastically, gulping when he stepped out of the line and put his arm around your shoulders. You found it hard to keep up with him, his legs being longer than yours, but the sheer thought of what he would do when you got to his place made you keep up. You kept sneaking glances over his way, blushing when he'd catch you looking.  
When you reached his apartment, you stopped him outside his door. You licked your lips, eyes sliding shut. "I want you to know that I don't just hook up with every guy that's ass looks amazing in a Captain America costume," you said slowly, (E/C) eyes opening to take in Mikey's face. "I have liked you for so long, and I want you to know that before we go in there. And if you don't feel the same, we'll leave this as a one ti-"  
Mikey's lips were on yours, hot and slick and head spinning. His hands were roaming over your back, one finally coming up to cup your cheek as he pulled away with a smile, lips parted slightly. "(Y/N), I would never think you were that kinda girl. And I don't plan on this being a one time thing, I want," he swallowed, trying to come up with the words. "I want for you to be my pillow talk, my midnight snack runs, my date night. I want you to be my baby."  
His words had you blushing and your heart squeezing. They were sweet and wonderful and everything you'd wanted to hear. Those words also stirred a fire in you that had you pushing yourself against Mikey as he opened his door. Your hands were sliding up underneath his shirt, lips attaching to whatever bit of skin they could. A moan was ripped from you when Mikey's hand cupped your breast, thumb rubbing circles over your nipple.  
You weren't exactly sure who started undressing who first, but before you could really register it you both stood naked in front of each other. Mikey all lean muscles and pale skin waiting to be bit and kissed and scratched. You tried to hide yourself at first, until the tall male pulled your arms away and knelt down in front of you; he peppered little kisses all over your stomach and breasts, then deepened them till he left little hickeys along the (S/C) flesh.  
You were a moaning mess by the time he had you sprawled out in a beanbag chair. You spread your legs, gasping when Mikey marked those up too; you felt like your skin was on fire as you writhed beneath the man nibbling on your calves and thighs. You reached down to rub yourself, growling when your hand was smacked away. That growl soon turned into a guttural moan when Mikey's tongue swiped across your opening, once then twice.  
He chuckled, golden eyes darkening as he took his sweet time opening you with his tongue. He moaned, your taste intoxicating to him as he lapped up your slick. Mikey pulled away to look up at you, breaths coming in short pants. "Are you sure you want to do this?" His voice was deep and scratchy, causing a hot coil in your abdomen.  
You nodded, not completely sure your voice would work. You pulled the blond in for a kiss, moaning when he prodded your entrance with the head of his cock. He pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust as he entered you. You felt more full than you ever had, pussy already throbbing with how absolutely stretched it was.  
Mikey smiled down at you, rotating his hips slowly; he ground into you like this for a few minutes, leisurely rolling his hips as he groaned above you. His pale skin was covered in a deep flush as he began to speed up, hips snapping forward before dragging back aggravatingly slow. His lips were attached to your throat, biting a little harshly before soothing the sensation with his tongue.  
"Ung, I'm gonna mark you up nice and good, babydoll. Let everyone know that- ugh, that you're mine," he whispered against your pulse, tongue licking the area in a vulgar way that made you that much closer.  
You were a mess, (H/C) hair fanned out behind you, sweat gleaming off your skin, (E/C) eyes completely blown. "Fuck, Mikey," you pleaded, "M-make me cuuuum! Oh, God, show m-me just how much I'm yours!" You were immediately rewarded by Mikey's hips speeding up, pounding into you mercilessly before your muscles spasmed, vision whiting out as you moaned out loud enough the neighbors pounded on the wall.  
Mikey grinned down at you, his own movements becoming sporadic and sloppy as he neared his end.  
"Mikey, fill me up," you moaned out, drawing the blond even closer to finishing. "Cum in me."  
Those three little words had Mikey Way cumming harder than he ever had in his life. He almost swore that his heart stopped, his breathing halted for a good ten seconds as he emptied in you. His breathing finally came back, in harsh pants as he looked down at you with utter awe. He couldn't believe how beautiful you were right then, with a coat of sweat on you and your chest heaving as you tried to keep from dozing off.  
"Fuck, (Y/N), you're so damn beautiful," he gasped out, his smile genuine.  
You blushed, pulling him down so that you could cuddle as you began to slip into sweet post-sex sleep. "Love you, Mikey," you managed to get out.  
He kissed the top of your head, smile turning into a grin. "Love you too, (Y/N)," he whispered as he rocked you're already sleeping form.


	7. Favorite Color (Pete Wentz/Reader)

They were your favorite color; a perfect blend of amber, gold, and brown. There were streaks of brown that reminded you of damp earth, along with highlights of caramel and copper. The way they shimmered, light reflecting off of them to reveal so much more than plain old brown, made you sigh. The raw life and emotion that they held, with every second they were open, reminded you of home.  
Pete Wentz's eyes were what you first noticed about him, even with all his tattoos and makeup. You couldn't help but be drawn in by the cayenne pools, and the long lashes that framed them. You were determined to get the guy with the beautiful eyes to fall in love with you, even if you didn't exactly know his name. It was actually funny, your first encounter with Pete; it went along the lines of you going up to him and stuttering like an idiot while he smiled at you in a way that made your heart go to your throat and your head go fuzzy. That smile had only made his eyes more beautiful, the corners crinkling and a new light glimmering in them.  
So you had become close with Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, starting off as friends and blooming from there. You've known Pete for a few years since then, and seen him go through all his hairdos and styles; but, one thing hadn't changed about him. His eyes always held so much purity and emotion in them, that you wondered what you had seen in life without them. Now, you looked up at the black haired man as you readied yourself to ask the ultimate question.  
"Hey, Pete-y?" you asked, voice sweet. You batted your eyelashes, (E/C) eyes wide as you tried to pull a puppy-dog-face.  
"Yeah, (Y/N)?" Pete mocked you, pouting out his lip for good measure. Yet again, his brown eyes mesmerized you, wide as they did pull off the puppy-dog-look.  
"I was wondering if you'd want to go to dinner? Maybe go to one of the nice restaurants in town," you scratched the back of your head. You were pretty nervous about asking Pete out; you'd become wonderful friends, but your heart always ached for more than that.  
Pete nodded, looking over at the TV as he did. "Sure, we'll ask the guys if they wanna tag along," he answered, oblivious to the nature of your request. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to his side on the sofa.  
You gulped, nuzzling against his shoulder. "I was kinda hoping it could be just the two of us, maybelikeadate," you rushed out the last part. You could feel your face begin to heat up as you looked down at your lap where your hands were folded. You could feel him look over at you, his gaze almost boring holes into your head.  
"Okay, we could do that," he answered after what felt like an eternity. "Where would you wanna go?" His hand squeezed your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. His eyes were so warm and inviting, hell you could almost see forever in them as you felt your heart thump.  
"Uh, I didn't really think that far," you muttered breathlessly.  
"Okay, how about you head to your place and get ready, and I'll pick you up in two hours?" Pete answered with a lopsided grin that only made him more beautiful.  
You nodded with your own grin, hugging him tightly before leaving to get ready.  
Pete sighed when you left, his mocha eyes slipping closed as he pictured you. Truth was, he loved your eyes as much as you did his; he loved how their colors swirled together and how they reflected the light perfectly. He loved how he could always tell what you were thinking or feeling just by looking into your eyes. He loved how your lashes only made them look more elegant and enticing. He loved everything about you, but your eyes truly were the window to your soul, your lovely soul.

~~~~~

You walked out of your home two hours later, Pete outside in his Porsche. You looked dazzling; your (H/C) hair left down naturally, you had donned a simple flowing teal dress and black heels. Your lips were painted a soft pink, and Pete wanted so bad to lean over and kiss you as you slid into the car.  
"You look astounding," he said, mouth agape as he took in your image.  
You blushed, looking down at your lap nervously. You wondered if you had overdone it, dressed up too much, when you felt a hand on one of yours. You looked up, (E/C) eyes locking with chestnut ones, and your breath caught in your throat.  
"I mean it, you're breathtakingly gorgeous," he reassured you. He smiled at you once more before looking to the road and taking off.  
You were surprised when you ended up back at Pete's place, a crease in your brow as you looked at him. "What are we doing back here?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.  
Pete waggled his eyebrows before getting out of the Porsche and sliding across the hood to let you out. "It's a surprise," he answered as he closed the door behind you. He walked you into the house, eyes lighting up when Hemingway jumped up in excitement.  
You let out a gasp, hands flying to your mouth at what you saw.  
The dining room was set up with fairy lights and candles, the room soft and inviting. The table was set with crystalline champagne flutes and fine dishware, a silk tablecloth beneath them. The delicious smell of food began to reach your nose as you took your place at the table, looking at Pete in awe. He held up his finger before rushing into the kitchen. The tanned male came back moments later with a platter stacked with steaks that made your mouth water, and a bowl of macaroni and cheese.  
"I don't know how to cook much, but what I do know, I rock at," he exclaimed as he set the food on the table. He sat down, dishing out one of the steaks and a heaping spoonful of macaroni onto your plate. "Does this work? I figured you'd appreciate something that had more thought than money."  
You nodded, eyes tearing up as you realized how much thought Pete put into this. "It's perfect, I love it," you answered. You reached out and took Pete's hand in yours, squeezing gently as you smiled at him. "Thank you."  
He returned your smile, reminding you once more of how absolutely enchanting his eyes were. They almost looked like little chocolate pools, dabbled with honey. "Okay, let's dig in," he said as he pulled his hand away to pick up his fork.  
The meal was indeed delicious, and you felt stuffed by the time you two finished eating. You couldn't believe how good Pete was at cooking, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. You two sat on the couch for a while, his arm around you as you just sat in silence.  
"I did alright tonight, right?" Pete asked out of nowhere. He looked over at you with concern on his face, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for an answer.  
"O-of course," you stuttered out, shocked by his question. "What made you ask?"  
"I just wanted to make sure. I mean, a woman that is as perfectly flawed as you deserves to have the moon hung for her," he explained with a shrug. His eyes became somber, clouded as he thought. "You're someone who acknowledges that they're a good person, but you never think anything of it. You know that you're someone that brightens people's days, but you don't realize the extent. You only see a glint of light you shine, when there's whole beams you have yet to notice."  
You were crying as you looked up at Pete, moved by what he had just said. You wiped your eyes and pulled the wonderful man in for a tight hug. You didn't want to let go, even after you had been holding Pete for minutes, so you just relaxed against his chest as you thought of what to say. Finally, the words began to formulate in your mind.  
"I think the same way of you, Pete," you began, biting your lip. "I think that you're one of the strongest people I've ever met and that you make it your goal in life to do the best you can and help as many people as you can. I think that your eyes explain everything about you, all your emotions and your very soul. I-"  
Pete cut you off with a kiss, his arms holding you flush against him. His lips were chapped, yet so warm and tender; his kiss made you want to wrap yourself in him and stay here forever. When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. His hands began to roam along you, one coming to rest on your hip and the other on your neck. "I want you so much right now, (Y/N)," he whispered, "You wouldn't believe how much I want you."  
You smiled, a glint in your eyes. "I think I do, because I want you too."  
With that, Pete Wentz took what he wanted. He lifted you up, settling you in his lap as he kissed your face softly; his hands worked on slowly stripping you, gentle yet firm in their mission. He pulled your shirt off, taking a minute just too look at you with complete adoration in his eyes. He leaned forward, pressing his face against your chest as he kissed your heartbeat. He stripped the remainder of your clothes, hands worshiping every bit of skin they could.  
You felt like your skin was being lit on fire, heat rushing through to your very fingertips as you felt the praise in every kiss and touch. You began to peel Pete's clothes off, trying to reciprocate the tender affection.  
Pete swatted your hands away gently, eyes locking on yours as he kissed the swell of your breasts. Those beautiful orbs were so different than any time you had seen them now, pupils blasted as a thin ring of caramel remained. He finally pulled away, lips swollen and slick as he looked up at you.  
"I told you, you deserve someone who would hang the moon for you," he panted out, doing his best to resist rubbing against your rear. "So I'm gonna do the best I can to show you what I'll do for you."  
You bit back a moan as his thumbs pressed against your hipbones, your head tossed back. You almost bit off your tongue when you felt his warm, wet mouth close around a nipple, tongue flicking against the hardened nub. Your hands were fisted in his black hair, arms shaking as he pushed you to the edge.  
Pete smiled when he felt your muscles start to spasm, and he pulled away again. He laid you down on the sofa, hand cradling your head as he did. He lowered himself, eyes locked on yours the entire time, until you felt his hot breath on your mound. He flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your clit to elicit a moan from you. He attached his mouth to your entrance then, tongue expert as it swirled around your clit and fucked into your pussy. He brought a hand up, fingers prodding your entrance as he began to rub you; he inserted one finger slowly, carefully stretching you before adding a second one. His mouth still worked your clit, tongue worshiping the bundle of nerves as he stretched you.  
You were a whimpering, moaning mess as you writhed on the sofa. "Oh, fuck, Pete," you gasped out, chest heaving. "Please, please fuck me."  
He grinned up at you, pulling away. "I'm not gonna fuck you, (Y/N)," he whispered, hot breath fanning out over your wet pussy. "I'm gonna make slow love to you to show you the words that I don't know how to say. I'm gonna give you the night so that maybe you'll see the beginning of what I want." Pete stripped off his shirt, revealing the stunning muscles you'd seen hundreds of times before, but never like this. He slipped his skinny jeans off slowly, tugging his boxers down with them. When Pete was fully nude, you couldn't help the guttural moan that ripped from your throat, or the way your eyes darkened.  
The brown eyed man licked his lips, leaning over you as he positioned himself. He kissed your nose, breathing heavy. "You're sure this is what you want, babydoll?"  
You nodded, kissing him for assurance as the head of his cock nudged your entrance. You moaned at the stretch and burn when he slowly entered you, (E/C) eyes squeezed shut as you felt every nerve electrified.  
Pete stilled, letting your body adjust fully before he moved a muscle. When you nodded, he swiveled his hips in agonizingly slow circles. His hands braced on either side of your head, Pete kissed all over your face and neck as he ground against you. His movements began to speed over time, drawing out moans and gasps with every thrust. The lyricist whispered in your ear, telling you all the things he wanted to do with you.  
"I want to lay in bed and talk about life with you," he sighed out, "I want to make breakfast with you at four in the morning. I want to write music about all the feelings you give me, and how the stars gather in your eyes. I want to go on stupid dates to the coffee shop with you. I want to cry with you, and scream with you. I want to be the ocean and sky with you. I want to fucking marry you, and have our souls entwine til we have one beautiful mess."  
Pete's hips sped up more, driving you into the sofa as they snapped into you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his sweat slicked chest as he made love to you. His words began to spill from his mouth uncontrollably, bringing you closer to the edge than even his actions were.  
"I want to walk dogs with you, and go to the beach. I want to take pictures of you to post on the internet or hang on the walls. I want to sing shitty karaoke with you drunk and sober. I need to be with you, and I've waited so long to see if you needed me too, and every second felt like I was drowning, but I wanted to wait for you. I wanted to know that you felt like it too."  
Pete's hips were shaking as his movements became erratic, head buried in your neck as he inhaled the smell of your sweat and perfume. He licked up a bead of your sweat, and fell over the edge. He came in spurts that were almost as powerful as his thrusts, drawing another moan out of your raw throat. He kissed your neck and shoulder, laying still with you until he finally slid out.  
You two laid in comfortable silence for a while, just holding each other and listening to your breathing. You finally turned to Pete, looking into his sepia eyes.  
"Did you really mean it?" you whispered into the still air. You almost couldn't bring yourself to speak as you stared breathlessly into those sun-streaked eyes.  
Pete looked over at you, arms tightening as he did. A lopsided smile came to his lips, eyes sparkling in the dark room. "Of course I did," he whispered back before kissing you again. "I meant that and so much more."


	8. I Like Your Beard (Andy Hurley/Reader)

The concert atmosphere was what you lived for; the cheering crowd, the moving bodies, the music, the hot air. All of it made your veins pump and your lungs squeeze out squeal after squeal. This was your first Fall Out Boy concert, and it was surely different than every other concert you'd been to before. Their music was uniquely astounding, the words wrapping around your heart. But your favorite part of the music was the drumming, every cymbal crash and tap on the skins made you jump with joy.  
The drummer couldn't tear his eyes away from you as he performed, yearning for intermission so that he could ask security to bring you backstage after the show. His lips tilted up in a smile, revealing gappy teeth. He was shirtless, like every other concert, with his colorful tattoos on display for everyone to see. His muscles stood out under the inked skin, jerking with each movement. His beard looked thick and curly, like it would scratch just right against your skin, making you shudder.  
Soon enough, the curtains closed and you waited anxiously for the second half of the show. You looked around you as the lights came on, for people to go get concessions. You sat, looking up when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  
A middle-aged man with bulging muscles looked down at you with a pass in his hand. "One of the band members would like for you to come backstage after the show," he sad as he handed you the pass. He turned away without waiting for a response, rushing past a group of squealing teens to go back to wherever it was he had come from.  
You looked down at the laminated pass in your hands, mouth open in shock. Someone, in Fall Out Boy, wanted you backstage? What did they want? Did they think that you would want to- You blushed at the thought, tucking the ticket into your purse as the lights dimmed once more.

~~~~~

After the show ended, you were up on your feet and running to the door that led backstage. When a security guard blocked your way with a small grunt, you revealed your pass with a bashful smile. "I, uh, one of the members wanted-"  
"I don't need to know, I just need verification," he said as he snatched the pass out of your hands and scanned it. He looked at the screen and nodded, letting you walk back.  
You walked down the hallway slowly, nervousness creeping into your gut as you neared an open door where loud laughter could be heard. You finally reached the door, knocking on the frame quietly as you held your breath. You almost jumped out of your skin when a dark-skinned man poked his head around the corner.  
"Well, hello," he crooned, "Who are you?" He leaned against the door frame as he looked at you with a grin that probably melted every girl's heart.  
"I'm (Y/N)," you answered quietly. "T-the security guy said one of the band members w-wanted me to come back here?" Your hands were fiddling with the backstage pass as you showed it to him.  
The hazel-eyed man nodded and turned to ask (presumably) the other members about you.  
The drummer was up and out the door, pushing the other male back as he smiled down at you. His blue-gray eyes crinkled as he offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Andy," he introduced himself. He stepped further out the door when you shook his hand, closing it behind him. "I saw you jamming out at the concert, and I wanted to meet you." He let go of your hand, eyes darkening in a way that made your heart hammer and skin heat up.  
You bit your lip and looked down at your shoes nervously. "Yeah, I really like the way you play drums," you mumbled out. You looked back up at the bearded man when he stroked his thumb over your cheek, causing them to heat up. You felt your brain fly out the window and blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. "I like your beard."  
Andy smirked and chuckled, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. His beard tickled your sensitive skin, causing you to smile into the kiss before he pulled away. "Thanks, I grew it myself," he whispered.  
You giggled, fingers entwining with his as you took one of his calloused hands. You ran the pad of your thumb over one of the callouses, noting how rough they were before the thought of how they'd feel pushed into your brain. You looked up at Andy, your pupils blown so that only a thin (E/C) ring of color remained.  
Andy kissed you again, this time more passionately. He lifted you, hands cupping your rear as your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you down the hall a little way before opening one of the doors and flicking on a light. He kicked the door closed behind you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.  
You were making small whimpering noises, rubbing against Andy's erection through his shorts. One of your hands wound in his short brown hair, the other digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder. You gasped when he laid you on a scratchy sofa, his own body right above yours. You melted beneath the drummer, his hands tugging your shirt above your head so he could kiss the rest of your skin.  
He pulled away breathlessly, panting heavily. "I just want you to know, I've never done-" he gestured between you, "This. I've never had a fan come back to do anything." He kissed you again, lips placing tender kisses along the tops of your breasts. "But I saw you there, jumping and screaming, and I knew that I wanted you like I hadn't anyone else."  
You shuddered, words going straight to your core as you writhed below Andy. You tugged your own pants off, watching as Andy removed his shorts. Your eyes went wide, mouth dropping open at how big he was. You moaned when he rubbed against your panty clad core, hands tangling in your (H/C) hair. You felt his fingers work beneath your panties, tugging the soft fabric off.  
Andy smiled down at you, his fingers working into you slowly to open you up. He moaned at how tight and hot you were, breath fanning over your stomach as he kissed your tender, (S/C) skin sloppily. When you were prepared, he rolled a condom on, aiming at your entrance as he looked at you through his eyelashes. "Do you want this? For real?"  
You nodded, breathing heavily as you whined. Your hips bucked up, begging for contact. You gasped when he slid into you in one smooth motion, his hips flush against yours. Your (E/C) eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open as you felt a moan tear through your throat.  
Andy was panting as he swiveled his hips slowly, grinding deep into you as he muttered curses beneath his breath. One of his calloused hands rested on your hip, pulling you against him as he fucked into you; the other stayed fisted in your soft, (H/C) hair. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he gasped out.  
You were a moaning mess, sweat glistening on your skin. You felt yourself near the edge of release, core tightening around Andy's length. "Oh, Andy, I think I'm going to cum," you whispered, breath coming in quick pants as you tried to talk.  
Andy leaned closer, his beard scratching against your skin deliciously as he whispered. "Cum, (Y/N), cum for me, babydoll."  
You finished with a whimpering moan, body falling limp as your lungs burned and your muscles ached. You looked up at Andy as he kept grinding into you, his own finish nearing. You ran your fingernails over his chest, drawing out a moan.  
Andy's hips were stuttering, his muscles spasming as his breaths became heavy. His hips stilled, cock pumping inside of you as he finished with a groan that sent shivers through you. His beard was still rubbing against you, drawing out mewling whimpers from you even as he grew tired.  
You pulled him flush against you, coming down from your high as your breathing evened out. You looked up at Andy, (E/C) eyes drowsy as you smiled.  
He smiled back at you, kissing you once more; his beard tickled your skin again, drawing yet another giggle from you. "Still like my beard?" he asked lazily.  
"Of course," you answered.


	9. Folie A Deux-Me (Joe Trohman/Reader)

You had been friends with Joe Trohman since... well, since you could remember, really. You guys had grown up together, and when you had the slightest inkling of what a crush was, you knew that yours was Joe. You two had even gone to school dances together, even prom. So it was no surprise that you happened to be hanging out with Joe when Patrick Stump came over.  
It was 2001, and quite possibly the hottest summer you had ever seen. You were sprawled out on Joe's sofa, in a pair of shorts (that your mother had paled at when you left the house) and a belly-shirt. You nudged the curly haired man with your foot, causing him to turn and look at you.  
"Joey, I'm bored," you whined, pushing your (H/C) hair out of your face.  
Joe rolled his eyes and pushed your foot away from him, jolting when there was a knock on the door. The scrawny man stood with a grunt and walked over to open it. "Yo, Patrick, what's up?"  
The short blond walked in nervously, waving over to you before turning to Joe. "I figured I'd come over and talk about the band. If you're still wanting to do that, anyway," Patrick said as he leaned against the wall.  
Joe smiled and shoved your legs over so he could sit on the couch. "Sure," he answered, "Where do we start?"

~~~~~

Two hours later, Patrick left with a pad full of ideas and notes. You still laid sprawled out on the couch with your legs over Joe's lap. His hand was rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing the (S/C) skin there subconsciously. You felt like you were going to burst into flames from that simple touch, resisting the urge to squirm and moan. Your (E/C) eyes were screwed shut, focusing on keeping yourself together, when you felt Joe shift. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you with his head cocked.  
"You okay, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice genuinely concerned. His hand had worked up to rest on your hip, causing your breath to whistle in on an inhale.  
Your face was heating up, turning red as you tried to hold yourself together. "Yeah, I-I'm fine," you answered, "Why do you ask?"  
Joe was leaning closer to you, his hand lifting and seeming to hover over you as he went to check your forehead. "You're pretty warm, do you need to go home?"  
At this point, Joe was leaning over you, his face close enough for you to feel his breathing. His knee was planted firmly between your legs, his weight resting on it. His short hair all but begged to be tugged as he held himself above you, hand feeling the heat radiating from your face.  
"I'm fine," you answered shakily. You battled to catch your breath, looking away from Joe as he inspected you closer. You stared at a magazine on the table, studying the cover to distract yourself. You gasped when you felt Joe plant his lips on your neck, a shiver running through your body.  
Joe chuckled, his hand running down your side to elicit another shiver. "I thought that's what it was," he whispered against your skin, "I mean, you're not the best at hiding it." He laid across you gingerly, his legs between yours as he rutted against you slowly.  
You moaned, looking up at Joe with wide (E/C) eyes as your deepest desires came true. You leaned up, locking lips with Joe as you worked your hips against his. You felt his fingers lift up the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head to toss it away.  
Joe smiled down at you with lust-filled blue eyes, before pulling his own shirt off. The nimble male undressed you both quickly, moaning when he saw your beautiful body laid out bare beneath him. He began to rub your clit with his thumb, two fingers gently massaging your entrance as he kissed the (S/C) mounds of your breasts. His other hand trailed along your side and arm, leaving sparks across your skin.  
You gasped, rutting against Joe's hand for friction. "Oh, Joe," you moaned, "Please, please tell me that this isn't-isn't you playing me." A cool rush of fear swept over you, soon pushed away by a wave of comfort as he pulled you into a warm embrace.  
Joe's arms were strong as they held you close to him, his face buried in your neck. "I could never even think of playing you, (Y/N)," he mumbled against the soft skin there. "You've been all I wanted since I could remember. Knowing that you want me too," a short pause took place here, "It's just the best. Being wanted in return, is anything I could have ever dreamed of."  
You pulled Joe's face up and kissed him, reaching down with your free hand and taking hold of his cock. You gasped at how large he was, the gasp turning to a groan when he nudged your entrance. "Do you have a condom?" you breathed out on a sigh.  
Joe nodded and rummaged through the side table, biting his lip as he searched. He finally pulled out the little foil package, tearing it with his teeth before he put the condom on slowly. "Okay, you ready?"  
You nodded, bracing yourself for this. "Jus-Just be careful," you whispered, "I've never had sex before."  
Joe smiled softly down at you before finally moving. He gently prodded your entrance, slowly gyrating his hips until he was fully seated in you.  
You felt like electricity coursed through your body as you began to move your hips. You moaned loudly while Joe sucked a mark onto your neck, his hips snapping back and forth. Your hands tangled themselves in your lover's short, curly hair, tugging.  
Joe groaned and ground his hips against yours even harder, breath coming in quick pants as he felt your muscles clench around him. The look of pure bliss on your face drove him close to the edge, especially when you bucked your hips and arched your back. He tried to pace himself, but spilled over the cliff of orgasm when your (E/C) eyes crossed from the pleasure, your tongue poking out through your teeth. He was gasping as he came down from his high, lips still leaving small marks along your neck and collar bones.  
You ran your fingers through his curly hair, breathing heavily as you felt sleep tug at your consciousness. "Love you, Joey," you mumbled.  
"Love you too, (Y/N)," he whispered as he kissed the top of your head, holding you as you fell asleep.


	10. America's Sweethearts (Patrick Stump/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College AU wherein Patrick is the reader's choir professor.

You sat in choir, watching as Professor Stump rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. Your (E/C) eyes darkened as you took in his appearance: short, blond hair falling messily into his porcelain face, tight dress pants cupping his ass, and his perfectly sculpted forearms. You zoned out as he talked about the song your class would be performing, some Russian classic.  
Professor Stump looked in your direction, a smile spreading across his plump pink lips. "Now, this song requires you guys to be able to sing for many, many notes on one breath-"  
You doodled in your notebook, drawing little shapes that had no real meaning. Your pen looped in lazy circles when a shadow fell across your desk. Your hand froze and you looked up, directly into eyes that were a deep blue, with a thin gold ring around the pupil.  
"Miss (L/N), are you alright? You seem to be spacing out a bit," the professor asked, voice and face concerned. His nose was scrunched up in an absolutely adorable way that made you want to reach out and touch his face.  
You smiled, eyes still slightly unfocused. "Of course, I suppose I'm just having an off day," you responded with a little shrug.  
Professor Stump nodded, straightening up and popping his back. "If you're sure," he mumbled, adding on, "I would like to speak to you after school. Nothing bad, just have a few questions." He flashed you a smile that made your breath catch in your throat.  
You bit your lip and smiled before he went back to the front of the room to continue the class.  
When the bell rang at the end of the period, you slowly gathered everything into your bag, waiting for the room to empty out before walking up to the Professor's desk. You toyed with your (H/C) nervously as he finished stacking his papers. You scuffed your shoe along the floor when he dropped his pen onto the wooden desktop. You looked up to see him with a comforting smile.  
"(Y/N), I've noticed that you have had a hard time concentrating in class for the past few weeks," he began, obviously treading carefully. "I was wondering if you were perhaps bored, if you weren't being challenged? Many students have that problem, and I want to make sure my students are actually getting what they are paying for."  
You hold back a giggle, thinking that if he knew the real reason you were distracted he wouldn't be having this conversation with you. You open your mouth and close it, repeating the action a few times before actually managing to think up a sentence.  
"Actually, I find joy in the class," you took a deep breath, "I just find my thoughts roaming to someone that I kinda really like, that I know I can't ever actually get with, y'know?" You looked back up to meet those blue eyes, almost gasping when you saw the swirling storm of emotion in them.  
The Professor nodded before taking off his glasses to clean them on his shirt. He placed them delicately on the bridge of his nose before speaking. "I understand, but as a professor and someone who sees your potential as a person, I must advise that you try to pay attention more in class. You are a talented person, especially with your vocals, and I would love to see you be able to go on to bigger things. I know I'm no counselor, but I might be able to help."  
You bit your lip and considered just politely declining before walking out. Then you had a thought of 'but what if...' and you couldn't walk out. You nodded before taking a seat across the desk from Professor Stump. "Okay, well, he's an older guy... and I don't really know too much about him. I don't even know if the guy's married, or in a relationship, or gay." You chuckled, covering your smile with your hand.  
The blond smiled and tilted his head. "Do I know him? I've been a matchmaker in the past, so I might be able to help," he offered.  
You felt your heart fluttering in your chest as you found yourself nodding. "Yeah, but there's a huge catch to why that wouldn't work," you took a deep breath, "You see, he's kinda one of my professors." You found a huge blush crossing your cheeks as you ducked your head to look at the suddenly-more-interesting-than-anything floor.  
Stump nodded as he took a deep breath. "I understand. Many young women find themselves in this predicament. And, while I cannot legally advise that you attempt to 'woo' this teacher, as a friend I will say to follow your heart."  
It was your turn to nod as you tried to gather your courage. You gave yourself an internal peptalk before finally going for it. You stood, wordlessly, and leaned across the desk to kiss Professor Stump on the lips.  
At first, the kiss was tentative and innocent; all closed lips and gentle motions. Then the older male reacted, pulling you further across the desk so that you sat on it on your knees. His hands found themselves on your ass, grabbing through the rough denim of your jeans. Your own hands were palming his chest, gripping the fabric of his dress shirt heatedly.  
He pulled away, lips slick with spit and bruised as he looked at you hungrily. "If we are going to do anything, we need to do it somewhere else. We're going to walk out of here, and you're going to meet me at my apartment, okay?"  
You nodded, breathing heavy as you let your hands roam over his toned body.  
Professor Stump wrote down his address and slipped it into your bookbag, winking at you before kissing you again. He smacked you on the rear after helping you down off of his desk; he held the door for you as you both left, locking the classroom behind you.

~~~~~

You found yourself pinned against the counter of Patrick's kitchen, his mouth attached to your neck hungrily. Moans left your throat as your legs wound around his waist, core grinding against his throbbing member through your clothes. His hands stripped your jeans off, before removing his own dress clothing; he carefully folded the clothes and laying them on the counter beside you.  
"My God, those thighs are lovely, aren't they?" he mumbled against your neck. His fingers pulled your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. A deep moan left him, his blue eyes darkening at your image. "Fuck, you are the best thing I've ever seen."  
Patrick lowered himself onto his knees, face between your thighs as he pulled your panties down with his teeth. His tongue rolled over your folds, licking its way inside of you. One of his fingers slipped in you, working you open slowly as he sucked and licked your clit.  
You were squirming and mewling on the counter top, begging for Patrick to fuck you. "Professor Stump, please pleasepleaseplease fuck me! I need you!"  
Patrick's hips bucked up into the air, the lean blond standing up and jerking his boxers down. His cock, thick and deep red, sprung out and stood proudly against his pale belly. He stood over you, kissing your neck and shoulders as he stretched open your entrance. Moans poured from both of your mouths as he entered you fully, grazing that sweet spot deep in you.  
Your fingernails grazed his back, leaving red streaks there as your walls squeezed around him. You squealed when he began to roll his hips, grinding his cock against your G-spot repeatedly. You moved your hips in tandem with his, your tits bouncing with each hump.  
The sounds of skin slapping against skin, gasping breaths, and high-pitched moans echoed in the otherwise quiet apartment. The two of you were grinding against each other heatedly, your walls clenching against his throbbing cock as you neared finish.  
Patrick leaned down, whispering in your ear. "Cum for me, baby girl, cum so hard you see stars," his voice fell thick and heavy on your ears. "You can do it, sugar." His thumb found your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle and driving you over the edge. He fucked you through the waves of orgasm, pushing you towards a second orgasm quickly.  
You almost couldn't catch your breath as you felt every nerve electrified, your blood pure fire running through you. When you came a second time, Patrick followed you over that blissful edge as he stilled.  
His face contorted, blue eyes screwing shut as his mouth opened into a perfect 'O', a deep gasp-moan leaving him. His head fell forward, forehead pressed against yours as you both caught your breath; his chest heaved as he wrapped his arms around you.  
"Fuck, you were wonderful, baby," he whispered as he kissed you passionately. His hands pulled you up into a sitting position, lips working against yours as you both came down from your highs. "Perfect."  
You blushed, burying your face against his neck to hide your heated face. Still, your lips were pulled up in a bashful smile at the words.  
The two of you redressed slowly, Patrick walking into his kitchen to open the fridge and peer inside. He closed the fridge and looked over at you, a drugged-looking smile on his perfectly beautiful face. "Wanna get takeout?"  
You giggled before nodding, looking at your disheveled professor with his sexed-up hair. "Sure," you said as you sat back up on the counter. You couldn't wait for this to happen again.


End file.
